In For One, In For All
by Yochanan Suishoukin
Summary: She's the first Weasley in Slytherin. He's the first Malfoy in Gryffindor. His family is the remnants of the old order. Her family's the wizarding world's new dynasty. You'd think their parents would be a bit more openminded about their relationship.
1. Have a Bad Faith

**Chapter 1: Have a Bad Faith**

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He was awake. More aptly, he was now aware that there was darkness and silence that encapsulated him, that he was lying on something soft, and that his head was likely split in half. Oh, not silence, there was that murmur of noise that he couldn't make out. But there was still darkness. His eyes were closed. He was just waking up, then. Should he? His eyes felt too heavy to be opened, but his mind was definitely too restless to just go back to sleep, the voices were to be blamed as they grew louder. He gave up sleeping and strained his ears to listen. Slowly, the noise—words—began to make sense.

"—sure nothing—"He could only catch snatches from this high-pitched voice. It was familiar, and for some reason it made his mind stir. Whose voice was it that he felt he ought to have recognised in matter of seconds?

Then there was another stream by a lower-pitched voice—still feminine, though. Who, again? This one wasn't important then. "—mind—potion—ask—"

They were very loud now, as though they were standing right next to him. His curiosity won and he forced his eyelids to open, only to shut them again as soon as the light hit his cornea. It was too painful; he would not open them again until much later.

The first voice made a squeal. He winced—or tried to; it made his ears ring and his head throb.

"—opened, I swear, Madam Pomfrey—" On the bright side, his comprehension was getting better. So he tried opening his eyes again, this time slowly. The light was still blinding, but he forced the eyelids to stay where they were. The girl squealed again. It actually helped him making it to half-opened eyes. He let them adjust to the brightness. Once it no longer stung, he opened them fully.

He was greeted by a round object with white background. He squinted slightly. The squeal was coming from this round object's—face then—red opening—lips. The face was framed by a cascade of red—hair. On the face were two bright points—eyes, brown eyes that were very warm and seemed to have light on their own.

"Lily." The word jumped out of his mouth without much processing. His stomach was behaving oddly; it felt like it had just gone through a flip-flop.

The girl—Lily—nodded. Her bouncing head was a cute sight, he decided, and his mouth wanted to curl. His stomach still had a nauseous quality to it, which somehow worsened when her lips quivered. "I'm so glad you're finally awake! Madam Pomfrey said you would wake up some time between today and next week but I was still worried because this is Belinda we're talking about and she's about as good at Potions as Al is at flying," she said all this very fast and without breathing, tears were forming in her eyes, "and I was so worried, maybe she poisoned you, I don't understand why, I mean, we're best friends, and you never fought—"

"That's enough, Miss Potter," Madam Pomfrey said curtly, her lips thinned in disapproval. He didn't agree with her, though, he would like to know more—never mind the fact that his eyes were starting to close again.

"No, let her—"

Madam Pomfrey sent him a very sharp look. "You will rest, and you will leave him alone." She shoved Lily away. He was consoled by the fact that she was very reluctant to comply. "You can talk to him again when he's fully recovered, but right now Mr. Malfoy needs his rest!" She had finally managed to get Lily outside the ward. "And please, do not alert Mr. Potter."

Potter? Which one—wait, there were two Potter boys, weren't they? Lily's brothers? He felt dislike rising when he thought of an older Potter, but when he got to the younger one, he felt a tug and a pang that he would not be able to see him right now. What was his name…Al? Asp?

He wished Lily would stay, he needed to know why he was in the Hospital Wing; he was not here often, someone else was.

Who?

He could not summon a name or even a memory to it, for his eyes finally snapped shut and his brain followed suit.

-----------------

The second time he woke up, his senses caught up pretty quick, and he could identify immediately the grinning visitor above him. Messy black hair, wide and rather weak green eyes—they could only belong to one Albus Severus Potter. "Asp." His mind was rather quick too now that he could summon that nickname.

Asp's grin only got wider. "And good morning to you too, your highness Scorpius," he said lightly. Asp plopped down on the feet of his bed. "Well, how do you feel?"

"Sick." Asp raised an eyebrow. "Oh, fine, I felt like someone had taken a large chunk of my brain." It was quite true, he still couldn't dispel the feeling that someone should be there beside Asp, someone that he also wanted to meet, and yet at the same time he dreaded it. He frowned. What put him in the Hospital Wing?

When he voiced this to Asp, the Hufflepuff's grin vanished to be replaced by a thin smile. "Potions accident," he said evenly. It was Scorpius' turn to raise an eyebrow. Asp tried to fool himself into believing he was a good liar; he, Scorpius, could see through it like a child through a glass. He continued staring until Asp relented. "Oh, well, you know, the usual." Asp's eyes darted around, another telling habit of his. "You, er, got involved too deeply with our family. Lily's not here because she has practice, by the way." And once the subject was changed, Asp's eyes were back on him. "They're up against Slytherin next, and you know how James gets. Completely mental."

Scorpius thought it was supposed to be funny, but he couldn't laugh. He also thought he had recovered, but many of his thought processes were halted—he knew he was usually very quick-minded. He had the accident to blame, whatever it was. He gave up on that train of thought; he'd just play along with Asp's small talks for now.

"And how much homework do I miss?"

Asp gave him a sympathetic look. "A boatload, mate. You'd be lucky to finish them by the end of the year."

Scorpius groaned. Asp's lips twitched; to his credit it didn't budge. "You can always plead them to lay off—you're Scorpius Malfoy, the top of our year, I'm pretty sure they'll understand."

"Not in OWL year they won't. And I'm not the top." As with Lily's name, this sentence too just jumped out. A moment later he wondered just what OWL was, or who the top was then.

Asp finally smiled. "Oh, well, you two are always alternating so I guess the average's the same. Anyway." He was changing the subject again, though from what Scorpius didn't know. "Lily said she'd drop by as soon as practice finished so if you dared to fall asleep she'd hex you awake. I personally would like to see how Madam Pomfrey would let that happen." Asp laughed softly.

Lily wanted to see him. It made his heart swell and he had to force himself to remain neutral (why?). "Right."

"And beware of Hugo or James or...every Weasley, actually." Asp looked at him apologetically. "Just pretend you're knocked out or still has Flobberworm mucus for a brain."

"Huh?" Who were they? They didn't spark a memory and therefore are insignificant. From the sound of it Asp thought they were important though.

"I'm pretty sure they mean well, but they have always been slightly, er, biased against you. Sorry." He stood, preparing to leave.

"Wait, you're leaving already?"

Asp scratched his head sheepishly. "Madam Pomfrey said we shouldn't talk to you too much yet, afraid it'll jog your memory so much it'd get scrambled again." Seeing Scorpius' scowl, he added, "I said yet. Usually I wouldn't care but I think I should give the opportunity to Lily, don't you?"

His head was inclined to nod; a part of his brain that was still dead objected to it. Asp saw this as well for he said, "Just give it time, you're not fully recovered yet." As soon as Asp disappeared, Madam Pomfrey appeared and started fussing about inappropriate visiting hour and noisy visitors. He tuned her out; she wouldn't tell him what was wrong with him anyway. He closed his eyes, hoping it would drive the matron out. It worked, because now she left him alone with his thoughts.

_Lily. A beautiful flower, fit for a beautiful person._ (Did he say that to her?) Was it really Lily? Something in the befuddled part of his mind kept trying to object or say something, though it was muted by the lightness of his healthy mind and the swelling in his heart. He couldn't wait to see her.

She didn't come.

--------

Lily showed up the next day's afternoon with a little more hysteria than he anticipated—if he didn't know any better he would have assumed that she thought depriving him of her would malnourish him. He smiled as she rambled on and on; this was a part of her personality and it amused him at the same time it exasperated him; he wouldn't mind talking to someone a bit colder but less enthusiastic…

"—I mean, he's the captain and all, but everyone knows he's a lousy Seeker. Why can't he just be the Beater I'd never know, I mean, Dad's a Seeker but he's James not Dad! Sometimes I think he's keeping that position just to aggravate Rose—"

That name struck a chord, a chord that was half-way between harmonic and dissonant and made his head throb painfully. "Wait, who?"

Lily clapped her mouth, looking horror-struck. It irked him somewhat: what was the point of baiting him and his memory? "Didn't you say Rose?" How odd. He wanted to say the name again as much as it revolted him. He kept his gaze at Lily. She looked torn between obeying the matron or her natural impulse of expository; he could practically see her weighing both options.

"Are you sure you don't remember?" She asked tentatively.

"Yes, I'm sure," he answered impatiently, annoyed by his headache. If only he could just access that part of his memory…

She bit her lower lips. For a second he considered asking her again, but then she answered, "My cousin, the only Weasley in Slytherin, and their Seeker, and that's why I think James' being a competitive macho prat." She said all these very fast as though hoping that this way he would miss some of the information and thus not able to overload his poor memory. She didn't succeed. His brain was pounding as soon as Lily started talking, but he could care less: the pain was the proof that this Rose was the key to his condition. He gritted his teeth in frustration—how was it that a person could make him want to meet her and spat at her at the same time, and kept eluding him every time he was about to grasp his memory of her?

He focused back on Lily, about to ask her to elaborate more. Much to his horror, her eyes were glistening with tears and her lips were quivering. "I'm so sorry!" She wailed. "Belinda's usually very kind and nice, so I don't know what has gotten into her, ooh, this is all my fault…"

"No, it's not," he blurted, desperate for anything to stop those tears. Lily openly sobbed. Scorpius wanted to faint then and there; it would be so much easier to do than to deal with a crying girl.

"B-But, look at you!" She wiped her eyes; more tears flowed out. "You have to stay in the infirmary for two weeks, and this is your OWL year, too, and I know that your father's grumpy about your grades—"

"I—I'll be fine!" He lied frantically. "I'll recover soon and—oh, please Lily—"

He could almost kiss Asp for appearing right at that moment, his vibrant green eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, hey, Lily, I didn't know—" Scorpius' stomach and relief was turned upside down when Asp gaped, then set his jaws. "What." Asp's voice was eerily high-pitched, and the air around him crackled slightly with magic. Scorpius was officially doomed. "Did you do to Lily?"

Correction, Scorpius wanted to Stupefy himself. Or rather, Stupefy the two Potters in front of him.

"None of your business!" It was Lily who answered. She had stood up, and despite that she wasn't much taller standing than sitting, he could see Asp balking down slightly. His surge of affection for her was tinged with slight guilt that he did, in fact, have a hand in making her cry.

"It is, you're my sister," Asp replied defiantly, but his tone was even and he no longer had the freaky aura around him. "Well, anyway, I need to talk to Scorpius."

Lily pouted. "About what?"

"Boy stuff."

Lily didn't move. Asp sighed. "Not fair, when you say you want to talk about girl stuff I have to get out…" He cleared his throat. "Ah, that's right, James is looking for you."

The redhead groaned. "Again? I swear, I'm going to persuade Neville to take his Captaincy." She stalked off anyway after kissing Scorpius on the cheek and while muttering under her breath.

Scorpius rubbed the spot where her lips had met his skin, the warmth of her touch had spread all the way down to his toes. Asp's throat-clearing brought him out of his stupor. He wished he hadn't, Asp was now giving him a half-smirk-half-grimace.

"What?"

Asp shook his head, plopping down on his usual seat. "Just be grateful you're my best friend. Actually, if I have to give my sister to anyone it might as well be you."

Scorpius' face was heating. "Yeah, well, it's not really your right. What do you want?"

"Oh, so now I need an excuse to talk to you." Asp rolled his eyes. "Well, Your Highness, it just so happens that I'm fulfilling your number one need…" He paused dramatically, groping into his pocket, then made an impressive gesture of presenting his palm. There were tiny square button-like objects on it—shrunken books, he realised. "Presenting, your books and assigned homework, courtesy of my cousin—the Dursley one—and, er, the other one who shrunk it." Here Asp's eyes darted around temporarily. Scorpius had a distinct impression he knew who. "We had to do it the covert way because Madam Pomfrey absolutely insisted that you stay away from any brain-using activities for at least a week." Asp carelessly dropped the miniature books on the bed sheet. "_Prolato Salvus._" The books expanded to their original size and weight. Scorpius cursed Asp's lack of insight—these books were heavy and they were on his legs. "Oops, sorry. Anyway, if she gets nosy the spell is _Viesca Salvus Apocryphus_." The books shrunk back to their button-state. "Don't ask where it comes from. Oh, and your wand is on your bedside. You are to stop reading and/or writing as soon as the headache starts."

Asp, he decided, needed a new nickname for snakes were among the quietest and deadliest of the animals, and this one did not do justice to them. Scorpius was more interested in the spells, though. They sounded like self-created spells; Asp's slip and Lily's revelation as well as a nearly-bubbling memory gave him an idea who. "Who is Rose?"

Asp, previously having fun with levitating the button-books around and therefore was caught off guard by his question, nearly fell off his perch. "Uh, why'd you want to know?" He stuttered, trying too hard to appear composed.

Scorpius sighed. "Lily had told me, but she said you'd know better. I know she's your cousin." Asp heaved his shoulders in resignation. "And she's probably related to my 'accident', probably even the cause of it—"

"Merlin, no!" Asp shook his head so forcefully Scorpius feared it would get unhinged. "Well, you can say that she did—but not directly! Never, she's your best friend too!"

"Huh?"

"As good as you two can be with your feuding fathers anyway—"

"If she's my best friend," he almost spat the two last words, "then why are you and your sister the only ones who visit me?"

Asp grimaced and glanced around. Once satisfied no one else was around, he leaned closer. "Madam Pomfrey will go ballistic, and I agree with her, but...I think that can wait. Mind you, she's not exactly happy about it—"

"Mind telling me what's wrong with me?" Scorpius asked, his temper rising. He was tired of being handled like he could become a vegetable from the weight of simple information.

Asp hesitated, again avoiding his eyes. At that moment, Madam Pomfrey once again interrupted whatever discussion Scorpius managed to have with his visitor. She drove poor Asp out like a panther chasing out a lost squirrel, and then fussed over Scorpius with lectures of getting some rest so that he could get out earlier and make the ruckus outside, sniped at how mindless and rebellious teenagers these days were, and threatened him to drink all of his medications lest he wanted her to write a letter to his parents. He grudgingly obeyed, endlessly wondering how she knew his weakness. Father would not hear about this, or Scorpius would never hear the end of it. He was partly grateful Grandfather was now safely beneath the earth, unable to prattle about pureblooded-ness and being weak and the endless junk.

Under Madam Pomfrey's watchful eyes, he spent a good part of his sleeping time being irritated at himself for remembering what his rotten Grandfather had droned on and on about his family, and not remembering about the more important thing that was his _recent_memories.

When she was out of sight, however, nothing stopped him from devouring his books. Two weeks! He had barely had time to rest when he had been healthy, how would he fare now that he had missed a week and a half? Of all the years to be admitted into the Hospital Wing it had to be his OWL year. Perhaps he was infected by Potter-Weasley bad luck after all.

He could not even get a decent dream. That night he was in the middle of the Forbidden Forest with its tight canopies and little sunlight, right in the middle of a patch of lilies and roses. He wanted to pick both of them, but a white snake had come out of the ground and slithered around him, hissing _'only one, one only, not two, not both'. _A moment later while he hesitated shadows of four-legged beasts danced around him, and he headed to the lilies. When he did, he heard a roar, turned around, and saw that the patch of roses had turned into an angry red dragon; it was opening its mouth and breathing fire out...

And then he woke up, already forgetting the stupid dream except for the feeling that it was extremely ridiculous and went right back to sleep.

_Note: This originally belongs in 'The Other Side', specifically in the fifth year, but I scrapped that idea. This one is meant to be a light reading and a practice in drama—take a heed that drama is my least favoured genre and I have little to no experience with it in real life or otherwise._


	2. Interference

**Chapter 2: Interference **

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Five minutes into waking up and silently mourning the fact that he was still in the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey walked in with a set of potions and a short list of questions, most of which consisted on how much of his memory he had recovered. She had pressed him to remember down to the last minute the last activity he had done before fainting—to which he answered nothing (in hindsight, lying about this would have gotten him out of the infirmary much faster, but he had had no idea at that time), to what degree did his headache linger (every time he got to reading more than twenty pages of a textbook, but he couldn't very well tell her that), and especially if he had a burning and lingering hatred for someone. He considered answering Dirk Montague and his gang of Slytherins, but he didn't think it was what Madam Pomfrey wanted to know, so he honestly answered no one. He tried asking her in return what exactly, in the name of Hippocrates' code, was wrong with him. Her response was to force those bottles of potions (without the bottles, thank Merlin) down his throat and a threat to go back to sleep.

As if he, Scorpius Malfoy, He-Who-Thinks-At-The-Speed-of-Sound (the speed of light would have been too presumptuous, Asp had said) could go back to sleep with his dilemma's mystery and a ton of homework to catch up to. As soon as she was out of sight and he could hear her bustling remotely from his ward, he got out his wand and muttered the incantation. Yesterday he had attempted drinking every word in Zoltàn Granger's note about the goblin wars (how a Muggleborn could stay awake and even take detailed notes in Binns' class still eluded him) and managed to have an extraordinary bout of headache, so he set the History notes aside. Charms had only one essay to submit, and so did Muggle Studies (_Careless Alchemists of the past are the reason for present Muggle's proximity to discovering Transfiguration. Discuss.)_, so they could wait. Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, as much as he would have loved to tackle immediately, would incapacitate him within an hour of work, so they had to be set aside. Potions was usually pretty easy, and this one was no exception (_Discuss the properties of Moonstone and its use in potions._); he put it down in favour of doing Transfiguration. Macmillan disliked him for some reasons (not really, he had a good idea which one of his parents was responsible, but still.) so he had to put even more efforts into that subject. He began reading a borrowed note in familiar, scraggly handwriting on Vanishing vertebrae.

Half an hour later he gave up; his brain simply refused to cooperate further. He wanted to hex something in frustration—he had thought he had recovered well enough. Oh, how the mighty Malfoy heir had fallen. Grandfather would have been doing somersaults in his grave.

He decided to have a break, though he had been par to optimistic in the hopes that it would help to restore his mind. He couldn't stop thinking and guessing; normally people who were sick were let in on their predicament, the fact that they had avoided talking about it openly gave a notion that it was akin to the deadly Muggle disease (Homicide Invigorating Virus or something) and he didn't like that. Horrified, even, that anything so mortifying and terrible could ravage a mind, and then be transferrable from one to another. He laughed woefully later: he must have been terribly brain-damaged to let his imagination run rampant and then trust it. Thinking about this predicament made his head even sorer, so he resolved to find other means to pass time.

The Hospital Wing was very lonely and deserted that day, as he didn't see anyone coming in save for a couple of Hufflepuff first-years who had had boils as large as Snitch on their face before Madam Pomfrey removed them and a Slytherin third-year with the words 'GIT' dotted across his face. He knew these incidents were related and was sorely disappointed when Madam Pomfrey vanished the dots, though not without her trademark lecture. Beyond that, though, he had no other entertainment. He tackled Transfiguration again soon after. Neither Asp nor Lily visited him again, and he was slightly resentful for that. How considerate of them, letting him be alone when he wanted their companion the most. They were probably afraid he would badger them again about Rose, and that would be quite right; he was slightly obsessed for the moment and he knew he was justified for it.

By supper he had only finished half of the essay demanded by Macmillan. Irritated beyond reasoning but realising that he could not really have done more, he shut his eyes tightly and willed himself to sleep—the time spent to rest was inversely proportional to the time spent caged in the infirmary after all.

His consciousness was floating somewhere between existence and non-existence when a faint murmur made by two people drifted into his ears. He figured that someone had probably gotten hit by a prank (the Potter-Weasley terrible duo came to mind) and needed a cure. It was none of his business, and he had better gone to sleep while he could. The voices refused to cease. He refused to do anything more than closing his eyes and emptying his mind. He was soon drifting again, but now the voices grew stronger. His better—or worse, in this case—nature took over and he finally opened his eyes. All drowsiness was immediately gone and he bolted upright.

Madam Pomfrey was not alone, and the person she escorted was a very tall and lean girl wearing the Slytherin-customised school robe. He knew without a shadow of doubt that this was the Rose Weasley who had been eluding his memory, and the answer to Madam Pomfrey's question about who he hated. It was quite irrational, because he couldn't point out exactly why he hated her, but the hatred was there, as blinding and unforgiving as the sun had been to poor Icarus.

"Ah, Mr Malfoy, you're awake after all," Madam Pomfrey said, looking a tad disappointed. She turned to Rose. "Though he has progressed far better than I had stipulated, please do not invoke too much of his memories." She glanced at the clock on the wall. "I shall give you half an hour."

Rose nodded. "Thank you, Madam Pomfrey." Her voice was considerably low and slightly cold, not at all like Lily's high-pitched but vibrant voice. He loathed it—and yet found it much more preferable than Lily's.

Madam Pomfrey had the grace of leaving the two of them alone; as soon as she did Rose took a seat next to him. She was an odd visage. Her hair was predominantly dark red, but there were strands of other colours, from black to white, haphazardly growing on that short, curly mane. Her eyes were hidden behind those glasses; once in a while he could see past the glints and catch a good sight of them. They too were discoloured: the left eye was a jumble of blue, green, and yellow; the right eye had black, grey, and even tinges of red—there were also three slash marks over the right eye.

There was something in the back of his mind that kept trying to jump out at him. What was it, _the cross-eyed witch..._

The odd visages aside, the eyes seemed flat and even cold, and so were the slightly tightened jaws. Lily radiated brightness; this one projected wariness of her; she was not a girl to be crossed. He still didn't like her look, so unusual and yet not attractive unlike Lily's simple prettiness.

_"...The witch made a deal with the devil..."_

"Have you taken a good look?" She droned, and he realized a bit too late that he was staring a bit too obviously. "You lied to Madam Pomfrey, didn't you." He could have sworn her eyes flashed in an unidentified emotion for a fraction of second.

"What do you mean?" He snapped at the accusation.

_"...power and glory, rule over the earth..."_

She didn't answer, her eyes bore straight into his. He returned the favour. Rose broke the contact, standing up and walked away. For a second he thought she was about to leave him (_good riddance!_) but she just went to his bedside cabinet, on which his array of potions stood, waiting for their night dose. Her eyebrows were slightly knotted when she bent her knees to examine the bottles, and he had to wonder whether she was planning to poison him through his medication. The eyebrows stayed that way as she turned to him with her back straightened. "Tell me, how do you feel right now?"

_"...havoc and desolation pleased the devil..."_

"You're the cause of this fiasco, aren't you?" He countered the question with another question, not willing to yield.

The corner of her lips hitched a bit. "Answer my question first, and then I can deem if you deserve the answer or not."

_"...souls of a kind, beginning where the other end..."_

He hissed pent up steam--his annoyance was only helped by his pounding head, though a part of him was amused. "I definitely don't understand why they kept saying you're my best friend," he answered vaguely._Do not show your fangs until they are within reach_, Grandfather (or Father) had said. Hopefully she would give him more information under the illusion that she could bait him further.

Her face was restored to its stony condition. "I see," she murmured slowly and almost inaudibly, "so you really don't remember." Her eyes were unfocused and she bit her lower lip. Perhaps with a little more push—

_"...the human was the devil, the devil was the human..."_

"Some other time, then."

"WHAT?!" He couldn't help the shout—here he was so close to finding the answer, and yet the source of it bailed out for, apparently, no reason at all but to spite him. He didn't think it was possible that his hatred for her could escalate even more. "I want to know!" He demanded. "Now!"

Her eyebrows shot up. "Or what?" She was vaguely amused; he definitely wasn't. "No, don't answer that. You can't even piece together the many clues Al and Lily have dropped."

_"...and havoc did they create..."_

His head was drumming, ready to burst; it only served to fuel his anger. So now he was ignorant and stupid. He wanted to say something, anything to topple her arrogance but a particularly nasty throb had him doubled over, clutching his head so tightly he wondered if that was the source of his pain.

_"...run, should you see her, for she has no patience..."_

A bright spot covered most of his vision, and he was only vaguely aware of someone calling his name...his skull would burst at this rate...

_"...__For a hair of every colour did she have__..."_

Red flash covered his vision before darkness overtook. He gladly welcome the shutting down of his brain.

"_...Her eyes, not one colour was enough to describe..."_

---

It didn't feel like sleep at all. He was conscious of his dreams, conscious that he was dreaming, and when he finally woke up in the morning, he could recall nearly everything in his dreams. He remembered his first time in the Hogwarts Express, and especially the faithful moment when he met both the short mini-Harry Potter and the lanky oddly-coloured girl. The green-eyed boy stuck with him, even after they had been sent to different houses, like an annoying toffee that grew to be a part of him. With the girl, though, he had had various disagreements and odd banters--he somehow always ended up trying to temper her sarcastic moods.

Somewhere along the way he was introduced to Lily. She channelled the spectrum of the sun itself: so bright, innocent, and cheerful that just seeing her could alleviate his worst moods.

It was a progress, but even then it was still impressions; he still didn't have his memory back and whole. He couldn't point out exactly what was his fondest memory of Lily, his biggest apprehension regarding Asp, and why, exactly, for all their personality clashes he still listed Rose as a friend.

Friend. How odd, especially since yesterday he felt nothing but a desire to curse her into oblivion. Hindsight was always 20/20, or so the Muggles said. Not that he knew where the phrase came from or what exactly it meant.

When Madam Pomfrey came up to examine him, he still insisted that she tell him his predicament, adding in what he hoped to be a convincing way that he was perfectly healthy and sound and could stand the news. She still didn't tell him. His mood soured.

_"You can't even piece the clues together..."_

He should get started on the many essays he had stacked in his mental to-do list. Instead, his mind was buzzing with replaying every conversation he had had with his visitors.

They kept asking about his memory--he was unhealthy in that respect and that much had been obvious. There was also that odd question of Madam Pomfrey's. Why did she ask whom he hated? At first he thought she was just trying to pinpoint the culprit, but then the question should have been who hated him. At that time he had thought of Dirk Montague, but when Rose showed up...

He ran a hand through his hair; his heart was beating faster. It was as though a connection had just been made in his brain; his subconscious mind had already solved the problem for him but his conscious mind still took a little longer to retrieve that information. So he tried to repeat the train of thought.

Madam Pomfrey's question: did she mean to imply that his hatred was artificial? And Rose...did he truly hate her? That was how he felt yesterday, but after his sleep he had thought that he was actually quite as fond of her, or maybe a bit less, as he was of Asp. So it was possibly artificial. By what? A potion?

He had been so preoccupied with calming Lily's burst on her last visit that he had missed some of her words. She had mentioned Belinda twice, even though he only vaguely remembered her as one of Lily's friends. The rest of the sentences were pretty interesting: not good with Potions, and normally kind--

A flash of idea burst so instantly he was nearly shaking when he retrieved his Potions textbook. There was a page at the very back that jutted slightly; it didn't look like what a page from his books would be--it was slightly torn and dirty. He quickly flipped to that page and was soon lost in the paragraphs. It was not his all right: it was a piece of parchment charmed to copy one of the books in the library's restricted section; he had a good idea who was responsible for it. The page described a potion known as _Haman Hamartia _, or else known as the Loathing Lugol, the counter of Love Potion. A part of his brain was irked that he didn't notice the obvious clue sooner. Another part of him, the one that did most of the thinking, was frustrated because it couldn't go further.

Then the taskmaster part woke up and told him to work on his schoolwork. He obliged, knowing that if he didn't he would end up in the infirmary soon after his release for overworking.

---

His sour mood was slightly drowned by his sense of accomplishment by supper time. He had finished one essay, started two others (he had to alternate between working on Muggle Studies and History because the former needed an actual Muggle's assistance while the latter was so boring he nearly nodded off), one was halfway through; if he was correct in interpreting Madam Pomfrey he would be out in two days, and his head hadn't ached as bad as the day before.

It was even better when Asp decided to slip in, cracking a nervous smile. "Hi, Scorpi."

The smile that had almost formed on Scorpius' face dropped. "Hello to you too, Albie."

Asp winced. "I'm just checking, you know." Unlike his previous visits, Asp didn't take his spot but instead opted to stand shiftily near his bed. Shifty Asp always had trouble with him.

When he asked, Asp simpered and asked back, "How's your head? I heard you had a nasty faint yesterday."

Scorpius scowled. How did Asp know about that? Then he remembered, a bit too late, that Asp and Rose were yet another case of pea-in-a-pod Weasley cousins.

Asp, upon seeing his scowl, widened his eyes. "What? What actually happened then?" He noticed the Hufflepuff's head made an odd stagger to his left.

"I'm sure someone can tell you better," Scorpius answered flatly, following a wild idea that someone else was there with them.

"Huh?" Asp's eyebrows went to his hair, but his mouth wasn't slightly opened--he was faking cluelessness.

It didn't help Scorpius' irritation. "Why did you Stun me?" He asked the air next to Asp.

Asp looked like a fish caught in a net. Scorpius paid him no mind, for the air next to him rippled and in a blink of an eye Rose appeared, having just pulled the silvery and water-like Invisibility Cloak off herself. Even Asp jumped slightly when she did that, as though he didn't know that she was there all of the time. _So that's what we look like when we uncloak. _Rose dumped the Cloak on the bed next to his.

"He can guess I'm here," she said to Asp, handing him the Cloak, "so I presume he's alright. As for the Stunning spell—"

"—you Stunned him?" Asp interjected, aghast. "You actually did?"

She stared down at Asp, an easy feat due to their height difference (although he nearly applauded Asp for not cowering). "Keep it up, will you," her voice was very flat and low, "Madam Pomfrey really needs to know."

Asp clamped both hands on his mouth. "Sorry."

She had already turned to Scorpius, her gaze softening. "If Madam Pomfrey had known about your spasm, she would have kicked me out and made you stay longer."

"Uh-huh," Scorpius muttered before he could stop himself, "so Stunning someone with a potential brain damage was the best option?"

Her ears reddened. "I panicked."

He grimaced, suddenly aware that Asp was watching them with his head swivelling in the direction of the speaker. "Right, so your impulse was to raise your wand and said '_Stupefy'_?"

The redness crept up to her nose, and she looked away. Scorpius watched as Rose stalked off to the other side of the ward (Asp practically leapt out of her way and onto Scorpius' bed). The two boys shared a glance; Asp mouthed 'good job', for which Scorpius kicked him.

"I'm sorry."

None of them certainly expected that, so they just continued to stare at her back. Rose turned, made her way to stand in front of him (Asp dropped to the floor on reflex) and looked at him. Her glasses did its job too well, but once in a while, in between the light glares, he could see that they were, for once, weak. "I shouldn't have done that." She broke their eye contact by examining his line of medicine. He used this chance to share a look with Asp, who had finally been able to properly stand beside Scorpius. Judging by the look on his face, even Asp didn't know what to do or what had actually transpired. So Scorpius took the initiative.

"Look, I'm alright, okay?" He said, a little more meekly than he wanted. "Just...don't do that again. I mean, we promised not to raise wands at each other."

"Which has been broken like, what, a hundred now?" Asp took his cue, grinning. "There's the Duelling Club. What's wrong, Scorp?"

Scorpius had blanched when Asp mentioned the Duelling Club. "I completely forgot about that!" He moaned. "What did I miss?"

"There's going to be a Random Party Duel at the end of this month," Rose answered, and he was relieved that she seemed to have returned to her usual demeanour.

"They'll rig that again," Asp mumbled in a disturbingly sordid manner, "we'll never be in the same team."

"Look at it this way, they know that we're the best threesome there is, so their best chance at winning is to separate us."

Scorpius made a face. "Threesome?" Asp blinked, then mimicked his expression.

"Just the two of you, I'm afraid," Rose deadpanned, "the gossip mill thinks you have something going on."

Scorpius thought he was going to throw up. Him, and Asp? What about Lily, did they think he fake it? He looked at Asp, who once again had mimicked Scorpius. An idea struck him.

"You know, you're right." He wrapped his arm around Asp's waist, noticing the way Asp stiffened or his own shudder. "We've been trying to find a way to tell you."

Asp shot him an alarmed look. Scorpius looked back, hopefully conveying 'play along'. Asp gulped then turned to Rose, wrapping an arm around Scorpius' head for revenge. "Yep. Scorp's just using Lils to get to me." He squeezed Scorpius' ear for good measure.

Rose's lip twitched. "Oh, really? Congratulations. Prove it." The two 'lovers' gaped. Her lips cracked in a smirk. "Kiss, or something. If this has been going for a while, show it."

"No way!" Asp sputtered. "I'm not doing PDA!"

"Right, should I just leave you two alone then?" He could have sworn her glasses' glare was evil. "Isn't that why you're so eager to see him?"

"I—We—That—"

Her grin got wider, and he finally realised the hole he had just dug for himself. He pushed Asp off. "Rose—"

She hummed. "Oh, should I tell Lily and James as well?"

Asp's eyes were as wide as saucers. "No! Rose, please, we're just—"

"Oh, look at the time." She nonchalantly glanced at her watch. "It's my time to patrol. See you later. I'll take this." She pointed at the Invisibility Cloak. "I trust you won't be staying here for the night, Al? He _is_ still sick."

She draped the Cloak around her, and was soon gone from sight. He and Asp exchanged glance: they didn't know whether it was safe enough to resume conversation. After a minute of being frozen in their respective positions, Asp spoke.

"This is all your fault."

"My fault, now? Whose tact was missing, as usual?"

Asp grumbled and bade his goodbye somewhat half-heartedly. In spite of that, after he was sure no one was watching, Scorpius couldn't resist a grin. He would never trade his two best friends for anything else. He wished they could stay that way forever.

At some point when he was about to slip into sleep, he remembered that he had forgotten to ask them about his discovery. He swore into his pillow, blaming Asp for his talent to distract Scorpius and Rose's brick-like sense of humour.

* * *

_Note: Yes, Albus is now officially a Hufflepuff, after some consideration. Zoltan Granger is Rose's second cousin once removed (blah, what a mouthful) from her mother's side. As you can see, I'm trying to inject some humour and fall short on it._

_The title refers to wave interference and its many effects and outcomes._


	3. Flowers, Flowers

**Chapter 3: Flowers, Flowers**

He was fully prepared to go through Thursday alone by finishing his pile of homework. Unfortunately, Madam Pomfrey had gotten suspicious of his activities and for the length of the day, she would unexpectedly popped into the ward and check on him. Really, didn't she know that he was so far behind his classes that it would be a miracle if he could caught up at all during O.W.L.s? Thanks to Madam Pomfrey, he spent his day being foul and formulating his essays in his head only.

He didn't expect his mood to improve by night, but then Lily came in, apologising quite hysterically, but then proceeded to tell him stories that somehow, in the way that only she could, made him forget that he was supposed to be pessimistic all day.

" — And then Teddy said, 'Well then, Mr Smith, because you seem to be advanced enough for this class then perhaps you can be excused from this class for now.' And then his face turned purple!" Lily laughed. Scorpius grinned at that. "Honestly, Scor, you should see that. Jacob is such a pain. I'm glad Teddy said that. I just wish someone would give him a Bat-Bogey Hex or something."

Scorpius chuckled. "He's not really that bad." When Lily frowned, he added, "His brother is much worse. I think your brother is still suffering from having to breathe in the same room as Johannes Smith nearly all of the time."

Lily giggled again. "Oh, poor Al. I wonder why they're Hufflepuffs; judgmental gits if I've ever seen them."

"Uh, I reckon the Sorting Hat had its reasons. How was practice?"

Lily glowered. "Practices, you mean. It's James. I would tell you exactly how they went, but I'm afraid Mum would Apparate right here and now and pull my ears off."

"You can't Apparate in and out of Hogwarts," Scorpius cited for the hundredth time. No one would ever read the most useful and necessary book for students; it was quite maddening.

"Something like that." Lily smirked, leaning forward playfully. "If Uncle Ron was here, he'd have said you sounded just like Aunt Hermione."

His heart skipped a beat, and it had nothing to do with her (again) comparing him to her aunt but everything to do with the fact that Lily, sitting beside his bed, was just inches from him – centimetres, actually, because if he moved himself slightly their lips could meet...

"Scorpi! How are you?"

Lily immediately pulled her blushing head back while Scorpius scowled. After all the time he was put in the Infirmary, it was now that Saveria Scamander chose to visit. It was not that he disliked his dirty-blond-haired friend's companionship; it was just that he and Lily were having a moment.

"See for yourself," he gestured to himself with a deadpan, "I only have one day left, anyway."

To her credit, Saveria looked guilty. "Oh, well, I've been pretty busy – hey, where are you going?"

For a second he wondered if she was talking to her 'nargle', but then Saveria pulled a very sullen Rose into view. Rose pried Saveria's fingers off.

"I have things to do," she said, giving him a scathing look, "I bet Scorpius is feeling overcrowded anyway."

"I am not," he said, slightly amused by her reason. Lily was not, though he couldn't fathom why she seemed slightly unhappy.

Rose pushed her glasses up while grumbling, "Oh, fine. If I fail to turn in my homework I'll know who to blame."

"Ha! I told you that you were overcommitted." Saveria, completely missing the glare Rose sent her way, dragged the Slytherin to the side of Scorpius's bed not occupied by Lily and sat her down on a chair.

"I'm not dropping Quidditch now if that's what you mean," Rose replied dryly. There was a gleam in her eyes as she watched Saveria getting a seat for herself.

Saveria dragged the one that was meant to be used by the bed next to them. "I don't want you to." She sat on the chair and smiled somewhat sweetly at Rose. "Victory tastes much better when you're on the team."

Rose's glasses twitched. Scorpius, sensing a rising tension in the air, cleared his throat and said, "What have you been up to, Flo?"

She turned to him, scowling. "Thanks to your second cousin or something and James's Quidditch practices I have practically no life."

He snorted. "Yes you have, you're still breathing."

"You. Are no fun."

"And Teddy's not that bad," Lily piped up. "He's even better than Slughorn."

This time it was Rose who replied, "You've never even met Slughorn."

The youngest curled her lips. "I don't have to. Al told me how nasty he was."

"Asp is terrible at Potions," Scorpius said, getting more and more amused. The subject of Potions reminded him of his questions, and so, looking pointedly at Rose, he asked, "Do you mind telling me what actually happened that get me in here, now?"

One of her brows shot up. On his peripheral vision, Lily seemed to squirm slightly. "That depends on how much you remember," she drawled, her glasses reflecting back most of the light so he couldn't see her eyes.

Her reluctance to give him a straight answer was also infuriating. He found himself nearly snarling, "I think I'm perfectly entitled to know what's wrong with me. I know about the _Haman Hamartia_, for instance."

Lily flashed Rose an alarmed look; Saveria's head turned around sharply at Rose; the target didn't seem to acknowledge any of them. She just pushed her glasses before answering, "You should, Teddy Lupin gave us a lecture on it on our first day of class."

He narrowed his eyes, the best he could do to suppress his growing irritation. "Please don't insult my intelligence. This is one of your games, isn't it?" Her lips twitched downward. He had hit a mark then. "Well, I've gotten your clue now. Where's my prize?"

Her jaws clenched. It took her more than a second to reply, "Belinda Davis mixed the _Haman Hamartia _into your pumpkin juice the morning of your collapse. Later that day, we have Potions, and we were brewing the Confusing and Befuddling Draught; Smith's cauldron exploded on you and thus you ended here."

"Huh?" Saveria had a genuine nonplussed look on her face.

Scorpius sighed. "They are both potions that affect the mind and emotion; according to Heisenford's Law, potions with some similar ingredients and similar area of effect are likely to clash and result in breaking down the victim's body." He turned back to Rose, ignoring Saveria's gasp. "Then what happened to Belinda Davis?"

Rose grimaced. "I wish she was expelled — "

"What?!" Came a shrill cry somewhere to his right. Scorpius nearly jumped when he realised that Lily was still beside him; she was glaring at Rose. "That's too harsh!"

"It's not," replied Rose coolly, "The usage of mind affecting potions like that is strictly forbidden in Hogwarts."

"But, but," Lily said shrilly, "Belinda wouldn't do something like that without provocation!"

"Did she tell you why?" Saveria said; her voice was unusually smaller than Lily's.

"Well, no...but she must have her reasons! She's really kind, you know, and she said that there was some trouble in her home." Lily's brown eyes were wide and watery as she looked at Scorpius, pleading for his support.

He found it difficult to give her that as he was the victim and this Belinda was someone he knew only as Lily's classmate and nothing more. "Lily, I don't know..." He desperately looked at Rose for answer. The other (mostly) redhead's brows were furrowed almost hawk-like — she was thinking, and was unlikely to help Scorpius in his predicament. He silently swore; every time he was close to getting the answer Lily had to hold him back by _crying._

It was Saveria who said, "Can't be that bad," she shot Rose an accusing look, "I mean, if Scrimgeour didn't expel her — hey, where are you going?"

Rose had gotten to her feet with displeasure in her face. "What do you think?" She snapped, showing and pointing at her watch, "I'm late for patrol."

"Again?" Scorpius blurted.

Her ears reddened. "Someone has to cover for you," she muttered as she stormed out of the hospital ward. They heard the door slammed shut and Madam Pomfrey complaining about rude kids and their increasingly despondent manners.

Scorpius turned to a wide-eyed Saveria who promptly shook her head when their eyes met. "Her Majesty has been grumpy all week long, actually." She sighed; his face must have reflected his curiosity. "Come off it, Scorpi. Ten O.W.L.s, Quidditch, the Duelling Club, and Prefect duties are not easy to juggle. Not to mention she's gone quite nuts thanks to your little episode."

"She doesn't have the right to take it out on Belinda," Lily said fiercely, "I hate her. She used to be nice until she joined the Snakes."

It struck a wrong chord within him; without thinking he had retorted, "What's wrong with that?"

Lily pursed her lips. "She used to be very kind. The Slytherins must have poisoned her to turn on her family — I mean, she used that odd charm to trap Gideon and Fabian in the Great Hall so that the Prefects could find and give them detention! And they didn't do anything to her!"

Oh but they had: stressed by N.E.W.T.s, the pair of Weasley cousins had bullied a Slytherin fourth-year to come alone at midnight to the Great Hall; they had intended to re-decorate the Great Hall somewhat and left the poor junior as the red herring. It was coincidental that earlier that term Asp had managed to procure the Marauder's Map from James, and that night Asp, Scorpius, and Rose had been exploring the secret passages found in the map. They stumbled on the Weasleys' and the Slytherin's (Lestrange?) name by accident; curiosity beckoned them and when they knew what was going on, Rose had been moody enough to cast the Shielding Charm on her cousins and left them for the Prefects. She had made Asp and Scorpius sworn to never mention that incident to anyone; he had been tempted to break his promise every time any of the Weasleys brought it up.

He suddenly felt drained and apathetic. "I need to get some rest."

"Eh?"

He turned away from Lily, though not before seeing her getting annoyed at him. "It's pretty late. You should go back before the curfew starts."

"Yeah, Lily, you should," Saveria agreed. In little time she was behind Lily and physically encouraging the younger girl to stand up. She looked at Scorpius and mouthed, 'you owe me.'

He gave a centimetre of a nod as soon as Lily turned from him to pester on Saveria. No doubt he was grateful she had taken over Lily for him. Lily took a deep breath and turned back to him with obvious unsatisfaction.

"Fine! You'd better be out of here tomorrow," she demanded, hands on her hips.

He gave her a wan smile. "I'll see if I can seduce Madam Pomfrey with my good looks."

Saveria snorted. "The kind that got you into this trouble in the first place?"

Lily looked horrified. "Scor — "

"Time up!"

Scorpius closed his eyes and turned away from them, burying his head under the pillow. For a brief, unexpected second, he regretted having this relationship with Lily.

_I'm cuttind down the length of the chapters for better pacing. Hopefully._


	4. Solstice

_Thanks to my beta, scarlett1, for catching what might have been an outbreak of English butchering. Also, I'm not sure if I should re-write this or not..._

**Chapter 4: Solstice**

The next morning, however, nearly made up for last night's awry visit. The matron's news that he would be out of the forsaken place by the evening nearly prompted Scorpius into skipping around the ward. He really was getting rather sick of the Hospital Wing; he wouldn't even mind if Florence tricked him into getting on a broom again (or on second thought, he would mind seeing that he would most likely broke his neck and then he'd have to be hospitalised again). He wondered what Asp would have said about that, since Scorpius had often had to be baited by the prospect of knowing Hogwarts inside out just to get him prowling around Hogwarts after curfew.

Asp seemed to have thought of the same thing, for when the middle Potter came in to help him move back to Gryffindor Tower he smirked and said, "Don't worry, Scorpi, the Giant Squid misses you too." His reward was a Potions textbook in his face.

"Where's Rose, though?" Scorpius asked, after they had spent five minutes walking and trying to pound each other with books.

Asp's left hand, containing the extraordinarily heavy Arithmancy book, stopped in mid-air, causing him to wobble and nearly falling face-first. After regaining his composure with Scorpius' help ("_Wingardium Leviosa _was taught in our first year, for Merlin's sake.") Asp mumbled, "Busy, I guess."

He would have dismissed it had it not been for the fact that Asp wouldn't look at him when answering. Granted, Asp had the propensity to lose attention fast, but when it was accompanied by mumbling...

Scorpius gave Asp what he hoped to be commanding look and said, "Is there something you're not telling me? Because I think I've had enough of you two hiding something from me."

Asp winced, messing his impossible hair even further. "Madam Pomfrey forbade us. As for Rose, don't ask, okay?" Asp frowned. "She can take care of herself anyway. It's not like she needs us."

Asp's expression as well as his vehement tone only piqued Scorpius's curiosity further, "What is it this time?"

"Nothing," said Asp firmly with his eyes fixed at the front. "Absolutely nothing."

They descended down the grand staircase with the levitated books in front of them. The other students were glaring at them, but Scorpius could not care less; at least their path was clear. Halfway down the stairs, he remembered about Lily.

When asked as to where Lily was, Asp replied, "Quidditch. They're going nuts, all of them, practicing like there's no tomorrow. Or no O.W.L.s." He suddenly slapped his forehead. "Oh, of course! James has no big, life-threatening exams; of course he would run the rest of the team to the ground with training."

"When is this infernal match anyway?" Scorpius asked, annoyed. They paused in their track to allow a group of giggling first-years to enter the Great Hall first.

"This weekend, and don't let any of those fanatics hear you; they'll chew your head off," Albus scowled at the thought as the**y**stopped in the middle of the Great Hall. "Badger or lion?"

The Gryffindor table, though lacking the usual band of redheads, was still quite full and Scorpius was quite sure his latest visit to the Hospital Wing would give them enough reason to take the mickey out of him. "Badger," Scorpius said without hesitation.

"Hufflepuff ho," Asp muttered. At Scorpius's quizzical look he amended, "Our newest fad. I don't know what that refers to." He sat down; the table was mostly empty.

"And yet you use it anyway." Scorpius rolled his eyes, sitting down next to Asp. "What does that say about you?"

"Someone awesome who you can't live without," Asp said cheekily. He ducked Scorpius's swinging arm. "Ha, you've got to be better than—Oof!" Scorpius's books caught him in the back. "Cheater!"

Scorpius snickered, setting the books down beside him. The few remaining Hufflepuffs threw them glances. Scorpius could care less; they probably were afraid that he and Asp would break out into a Muggle-style brawl. As if they could, he snorted inwardly. He had sorely missed Hogwarts's great food during his recuperation. To celebrate, he dumped an extraneous pile of everything onto his plate. He took a bite of a piece of bacon—he revelled in the saltiness that would normally make him spit it out.

No matter what Lily said, he couldn't really forgive Belinda Davis for landing him in the hospital for whatever reason. On the other hand, this was Lily, the girl who could be an annoyance and a blessing at any given moment but was consistently innocent.

He glanced sideways to an oblivious Asp who seemed to be enjoying his dinner. As odd as it was, Asp was knowledgeable in the fields of other students in Hogwarts (the perks of being a Hufflepuff, he had said). Scorpius asked, "What do you know about Belinda Davis?"

Asp turned at him, blinking comically with a sausage still stuck in his mouth. He bit it off and thankfully chewed first before answering, "Lily's friend? What about her?"

"I don't know—anything. Whatever you know about her."

Asp looked thoughtful as he tapped his fork on his chin. "As far as I remember," he said slowly, "she's been stuck to Lily since their first day. I can't really describe her; I've always seen her with Lily and never alone." Asp stared at Scorpius with the intensity that he had often used while accusing Scorpius of something. "Why're you asking me anyway? You're the one who's in the same house as them." Asp wiggled his fork. "What does that make you? You're supposed to know everything about Lily, from her hobbies to her friends." His tone was light and even, but this was _Asp_, he reminded himself, who would never shout unless it was something extreme.

"She's never really mentioned them in great details," Scorpius retorted defensively, "and it's not like they're important anyway."

Asp stared at him as though he had grown a third head. "Sometimes I wonder why I let you get together," he said with a tone that was somewhere between serious and joking. It halted the question Scorpius was about to launch. Luckily, Asp didn't notice and went on, "Really, Scorp, I've always said that she is much too young — and don't try and tell me thirteen is old enough! I haven't even experienced my first crush at that age — and honestly the only reason I'm willing to give you a chance is because you're you."

"Uh?" Scorpius responded intelligently. He really hadn't expected Asp to be the over-protective type. James Potter, definitely, but Albus Severus Potter, the one who had helped him gain James's approval?

Asp gave him a pitying look. "I know you, silly, probably more than most people; I know I can trust you with my life and even Lily's." Asp flushed slightly, looked away, ruffling his hair. "Er, that is to say, if something goes wrong I can at least hex you to pieces and not worry that you'll hurt me." He finished the rest of his sausage. "Or maybe I'll just set James loose on you," he added as an afterthought.

Scorpius absently nodded. He wanted to kick himself—only an idiot would have thought it a perfect solution to discuss one's relationship with the girl's brother. He felt rather foolish for expecting some kind of discussion with Asp—whose pinnacle achievement with girls was tempering his cousins' volcanic moods—but then again, he needed to talk to someone who knew Lily well.

Scorpius wolfed his dinner. It would have to be pushed down his list of priorities, especially since he still had a lot of schoolwork to catch up to.

--

He went straight to the library after dinner to work on all his homework — in particular, his Muggle Studies essay was in dire need of reference material. The library was greatly disappointing: from the ten books he had pulled out on the subject of Muggle alchemists, none of them was published in the twenty-first century. He doubted Professor Crowley's would have accepted the sixteenth century as recent.He levitated the books and went to where they used to be. It would only be appropriate that the books were located in the deepest recess of the library, just a few shelves away from the Restricted Section. He thought of asking Teddy's permission to enter the Restricted Section, but quickly dismissed it: the Restricted Section, if it even had anything on Muggles, would only contain books that discuss the most painful ways of torturing Muggles.

Like the one he had found in Grandfather's room.

He was barely past the Herbology section when he heard a light wheezing somewhere from his right. Startled, he left the ten books on the ground and cautiously walked between the shelves while straining his ears. It sounded like a pig squelching and it was rhythmic. Scorpius muttered "_Lumos" _(for this part of the library's lighting was ridiculously dim) and squinted in disbelief. It was Rose, sitting on the floor with her head on her chest and making that noise, though thanks to his casting and the light she suddenly jerked and blinked blearily at him. He blinked back—Rose never took off her glasses within anyone's presence. Realising this as well, she soon was on all fours, looking for her glasses. It was near his feet, so Scorpius stealthily kicked it behind him.

"Don't tell me you're finally near-sighted," he said, dropping to her level. She paused from groping around the floor, but didn't turn at him.

"You have it, don't you?" She said angrily. Her ears matched her hair. "Give it back."

"No," he said firmly, "Come on, there's no one else around. Why did you take it off in the first place?"

She turned and glared at him—with her black eyeballs, red irises, and white pupils, he felt he was entitled to be slightly startled. "I didn't expect to fall asleep," she muttered as she shifted back to sitting position, hugged her thighs and buried her head in her knees. Moments passed in silence.

"Rose?" Scorpius called quietly. Was she going back to sleep?

She hummed in response. At least he knew she was still awake. He silently reached for the glasses behind his shoes. Mrs. Granger-Weasley had charmed it to either reflect light back most of the time or give the false impression that the wearer had a perfectly normal case of heterochromia. He wiped it before offering it to Rose. She didn't budge, even after he nudged her knee with the glasses.

A tad annoyed by her behaviour, he surveyed the scene. Rose's bag was beside her; the book, which had dropped onto the floor when she woke up, had some pictures that resembled algae, and there was also a foot-long parchment that only had three lines written on it next to her. Florence's words, especially _'overcommitted',_ rang in his mind. "How long did you sleep last night?" He asked cautiously.

"One hour. Two. Or three," came the muffled reply, followed by a hollow chuckle. "Does it matter?"

"And how many practices do you have this week?" He asked as evenly as he could.

He heard a snort, followed by, "The game is tomorrow. What do you think?"

He swore a silent oath against whoever that thought Quidditch was a form of healthy rivalry. Outwardly, he said, "Then you should get some sleep in _your room_." He sat next to her. From up close, her hair looked frizzy and unkempt. He had a sudden urge to run his hand through it, just to feel how wild it truly was.

...Why was his heartbeat accelerating as well?

"Never mind me," she said suddenly. Their hands brushed when Rose snatched her glasses—Scorpius had thoroughly forgotten he had been holding it; He thought his heart should be audible to her. He slid a little to the side without thinking. "How are you feeling?"

She glanced at him with a tinge of concern; he briefly wondered whether his suspicions were correct before it came to him that she was asking about his post-hospitalisation state. "Alright," he squeaked, then after clearing his throat and looking away he added, "So far nothing's wrong. Perfectly fine."

"At least one of us is," she muttered, nearly inaudible with the rustling. He heard her standing up. "Are you coming?"

"Where?"

"I'm going back to my common room. Eleanor and Izanami will allow me to sulk, unlike someone."

Turning around, he was relieved to see a ghost of a smile on her face. "I-I see. Look, Rose." He gulped, rising to his feet and craned his neck slightly to look at her. "If you need to talk, or anything, just tell me, okay? Even if you just want to copy my essays or make me do your patrols—"

"—won't happen, but thanks for the sentiment." This time she did smile.

He nodded mechanically. His tongue couldn't seem to work properly, which was wrong for so many reasons. He was talking to Rose and not Victoire Weasley, Teddy's part-Veela fiancée, for starters. To his disappointment, she looked away, casting her eyes to somewhere behind him.

"Scorpius, you're in the way."

"Ah, sorry," he flustered, starting to walk out of the aisle. He was determined to look straight forward as he made his way to the entrance of the library. They continued to walk in silence until they reached the marble staircase, where they turned to descend; two steps down Rose suddenly said, "Are you going to meet Al?"

"Eh?" It took two seconds for him to remember that he had no business in anywhere lower than the library. His face heated up. "Er, that, yeah..."

He could almost feel her exasperated gaze on his back. "Another one of your male problems that I don't need to know?"

_Uh-oh. _"Actually, I just thought I had left something in the Great Hall. My, uh, textbook."

"Your textbook?" She sounded suspicious. He couldn't really blame her, though after wracking his brain he did recall Asp taking one of one of his books during dinner to emphasise his point about Scorpius's unnecessary griping about the O.W.L.s; Asp's favourite was Scorpius's meticulous scribbling across the book's margins.

"My book. I think Asp has it."

"Right."

They had arrived at the bottom of the staircase; he was going toward the Great Hall while she was heading to the halls leading to the dungeon, though Rose stopped and called him.

"Hufflepuff common room is this way."

He stopped and looked back over his shoulder as he answered, "I want to check the Great Hall first."

For a fleeting second her brows furrowed. "Oh, alright." She turned around briskly.

He watched her retreating back, hesitating, and then finally saying aloud, "Get some rest, Rose! You have a Snitch to catch tomorrow." Without waiting for her response he dashed into the Great Hall.

He really needed to see Madam Pomfrey; something was definitely wrong with him. Not only had he left his book in the Great Hall, he had also left his entire bag in the library.


End file.
